


The Will To Fight Further

by SamanthaStarbreaker



Series: Wanderverse [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Criminal Investigation, F/F, Lawyers, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-20 07:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaStarbreaker/pseuds/SamanthaStarbreaker
Summary: It's been eight years on Earth C. Eight years when Terezi Pyrope was conspicuously absent. When she returns to find herself a figurehead of "justice" in a world where there's little justice to be had, she has to answer the question: can one good lawyer truly make a difference?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the fantastic Varynova for betaing this fic!

The streets of New Seattle are rank with the smell of opportunity. Searing asphalt, crowds of people, delectably dark cherry brick, and opportunity. As I wander through the crowds, it seems like the opposite of the life I used to lead in so many ways. Of course, that's because June decided to live downtown. If it were entirely up to me, I'd still be living in a tree. There was nothing wrong with my tree; it was a perfectly serviceable arrangement. There are no branches to hang the guilty from around here. A flagpole would do in a pinch, but the legal system here on Earth C doesn't really work that way. Instead of summary culling, instead there's a whole process where the accused gets a defense. A defense! On Alternia, even mentioning defense in a courtblock was offensive. A surefire way to be eaten by His Honorable Tyranny. I'll confess, though, the prospect is at least intriguing. It could make for so much more courtblock drama, after all. 

Speaking of the court, that's where I'm supposed to be headed. At least they still treat the law with dignity here; I can smell the imposing edifice of the courthive from around the corner. Bright citrus white and sweet honey gold paint a picture in my mind of a building lovingly polished. Cut from marble, probably, or something like marble. There's a statue in front, with the bloody taste of copper. As far as I can smell, it's a woman of ambiguous species, holding up a balanced scale. Her eyes are covered permanently, and the inscription on the pedestal tells me who the blind woman is supposed to be. "JUSTICE." I can't say the likeness is very good, but I am blind, so they at least got that part right. Heh. Heh heh. I let out a healthy cackle as I walk past the statue into the courthive proper. 

Past the doors is a wide open lobby, which is not at all where I need to be. I ask the human standing behind the desk where I go to get a license to practice law on this planet, and she just looks at me with an odd expression. I glare at her, my eyes glowing red behind my glasses, until she speaks up. Intimidating silence is half the job. 

CLERK: Uh, ma'am? If you're trying to intimidate me, I'm actually over here. -.-

I turn to face her voice.

TEREZI: WH4T?  
CLERK: My god, it really is you. You're Terezi Pyrope. O.o  
TEREZI: Y3S?  
CLERK: Well, you're kinda famous. For helping create the planet and all.  
TEREZI: TH4T'S GR34T. SO WH3R3 DO 1 GO TO G3T 4 L3G4L L1C3NS3?  
CLERK: Well, no offense, ma'am, but everyone will probably assume you already have one.  
TEREZI: R34LLY >:P  
TEREZI: 4ND 4R3 4SSUMPT1ONS 4DM1SS1BL3 H3R3 1N TH3 TH1RD C1RCU1T?  
CLERK: No, ma'am. x.x  
TEREZI: TH3N YOU'LL UND3RST4ND WHY 1'M 4PPLY1NG FOR 4 L1C3NS3  
CLERK: We don't have any dedicated examiners today, but it's also a lighter caseload than usual this week. Maybe one of the judges would agree to administer your exam?

I stand still, glaring some more intimidating silence at the place I assume her to be. She turns and walks away, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

It's been a few minutes, and my facade reached its limit about two minutes in. Right now, I'm busying myself coming up with a percussion solo using the two halves of my cane and various objects around me. The desk, the wall, the floor, all of them have different textures and make different sounds. I'd sneak in here with the coolkid at some point when nobody was here, but justice never sleeps. The courts of the Third Circuit have at least an endoskeleton crew at all times. The world will have to survive without our incredible collaborative beats. I'm about to start singing, and Skaia knows nobody wants to hear that, but luckily I'm saved the trouble by the arrival of a limeblooded troll in a black robe. His sign is on a necklace; judicial robes are completely uniform and not to be altered.

JUDGE: Holy (shit).  
TEREZI: L4NGU4G3, YOUR TYR- YOUR HONOR  
JUDGE: You're (right). Uh, Ms. Pyrope, I'm (told) you're looking (to practice (law))?  
TEREZI: >:]  
JUDGE: Okay, uh, we can definitely do (that). Right this (way).

I'm led through a series of hallways into a larger office area. It smells like so much stale coffee. I can't tell how much of that is all the wood everywhere and how much is the actual stale coffee. It’s probably evenly matched. There’s not a judicial block in the galaxy without stale coffee; back on Alternia, shipments of coffee destined for the courthives were inspected for staleness to ensure it met the highest judicial standards. Here, it’s probably just been sitting out too long. The judge keeps looking back at me, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. Or worse. When we finally get to an area with a large table, he sits down across from me and waits for me to find my seat.

JUDGE: Alright, Ms. Pyrope. I just, this is very (unorthodox). One of the creators, looking (to practice (law)) like this.  
TEREZI: 1’M NOT QU1T3 SUR3 WH4T YOU 3XP3CT3D, JUDG3…  
JUDGE: Ah. Uh, Maltyr. Ornbis Maltyr, ma’am.  
TEREZI: 1’M NOT QU1T3 SUR3 WH4T YOU 3XP3CT3D, JUDG3 M4LTYR  
TEREZI: FOR M3 TO JUST S1T 4ROUND 4LL D4Y?  
TEREZI: 1’LL L3T YOU 1N ON 4 S3CR3T  
TEREZI: 1 G3T BOR3D 34S1LY  
TEREZI: 4ND P3OPL3 DON’T L1K3 M3 MUCH WH3N 1’M BOR3D

The judge shivers. Gog, is it that easy? Are they growing trolls with this little spine these days? No, that can’t be it. 

ORNBIS: Well, ma’am, I’m (sure) you know (you have a (reputation)).

Ah. That explains it nicely. I should have figured; we’re all legends to them. So much larger than life. Maybe popping that bubble will help him.

TEREZI: HOW OLD 4R3 YOU, ORNB1S?  
ORNBIS: Uh, (forty-one), Ms. Pyrope.  
TEREZI: 41 SW33PS??  
ORNBIS: Oh, my (apologies), ma’am. Uh, no, forty-one years. Something like twenty solar sweeps by Old Alternian standards.  
TEREZI: YOU KNOW 1’M YOUNG3R TH4N YOU, R1GHT?  
TEREZI: 1’M ONLY TW3LV3 SW33PS OLD  
TEREZI: SUR3, 1 H3LP3D CR34T3 TH3 UN1V3RS3, BUT 1’M NOT 1MMORT4L OR 1NV1NC1BL3, 4ND 1’M SUR3 4S H3LL NOT H3R3 TO M3SS 4NYTH1NG UP FOR YOU  
TEREZI: 1’M H3R3 FOR TH3 S4M3 TH1NG YOU 4R3, JUDG3  
TEREZI: JUST1C3 >:]

The judge shakes his head softly, tapping the table with his fingertips. Being this afraid of me is not a good thing in a judge, so I deploy the last of my very small arsenal of deescalation strategies.

TEREZI: 4ND YOU DON’T H4V3 TO C4LL M3 MS. PYROP3  
TEREZI: YOU C4N JUST C4LL M3 T3R3Z1  
ORNBIS: Huh. Is that (so)?  
TEREZI: 1T 1S  
ORNBIS: Alright, Terezi. I’ll level with you. In order to join the provincial (bar), you’d have (to have a law (degree)) from an accredited law school. You’d also have (to take a stringent bar (exam)), undergo a background (check), and swear the (oath).  
TEREZI: TH4T S33MS R34SON4BL3  
ORNBIS: That’s not an (issue), for two reasons. First, you already have a (doctorate) from every single Troll Kingdom law school, and half the other ones too. Second, you’re already a (member) of the provincial bar. Of all the provincial bars, actually, and the federated ones.  
TEREZI: 1 4M?  
ORNBIS: You saw the (statue) of Justice outside, right?  
TEREZI: NO >:P  
TEREZI: 1 D1DN’T, H4H4  
ORNBIS: Oh, uh, right. (Sorry) about that. I didn’t mean (to be (insensitive)).  
TEREZI: 1T’S F1N3  
TEREZI: 1 KNOW TH3 ST4TU3 YOU’R3 T4LK1NG 4BOUT  
ORNBIS: It’s a rather controversial (statue), actually. I don’t know (how (much) you know about that.)  
TEREZI: 1 D1DN’T  
ORNBIS: Well, it caused a (bit) of an uproar when it was (installed). Typically, depictions of Justice look a lot (more) like…

He drums his fingers on the table for a moment longer.

ORNBIS: Well, like you. By tradition, you’re the first listed (member) of every bar association on the planet.  
TEREZI: SO WHY 4M 1 S1TT1NG H3R3 W1TH YOU? >:/  
ORNBIS: I’m (here) to talk (you) out of it, Terezi.  
TEREZI: TO WH4T? >:[  
ORNBIS: I want (to ask you not (to practice)). No lawyer on the planet is going to want (to face (you)). No judge is going to want (to go (against you)) on a ruling. I know (I sure don’t).  
TEREZI: TH3N GROW 4 SP1N3 M4LTYR  
ORNBIS: Excuse (me)?  
TEREZI: S33, TH4T’S 4 GOOD ST3P  
TEREZI: ST4ND UP TO M3  
TEREZI: 1’M NOT P3RF3CT, JUDG3  
TEREZI: NON3 OF US 4R3  
TEREZI: 1F YOU DON’T TH1NK TH3R3 4R3 PL3NTY OF L4WY3RS OUT TH3R3 TH4T WOULD K1LL TO B34T M3 1N COURT, YOU’R3 WRONG  
TEREZI: 4ND 1F YOU C4N’T UPHOLD TH3 L4W 1N TH3 F4C3 OF 4 BL1ND G1RL H4LF YOUR 4G3, TH3N YOU’R3 NOT MUCH OF 4 JUDG3

I get up and walk over to the coffeemaker across the room, pouring myself a cup as I leave. 

TEREZI: S33 YOU 1N COURT >:|

As I’d suspected, the coffee is stale only by Earth standards. This would be a piss-poor excuse for proper judicial caffeination on Alternia. Still, caffeine is caffeine, and as I leave the courthive, the smell of the coffee helps keep the sudden influx of other smells from overloading me. That’s the first step down. I’m officially a lawyer. Not much of one without a suitable office, though. Every good lawyer needs a good office, and I won’t find that here for two reasons. First, the people in this part of town are well-off and mostly human. They’ve already got plenty of great lawyers. Second, I don’t want the flashy ostentation. If I get a floor in one of these hard, sharp towers, it’ll be all over the headlines. Look at the way they treat June. She’s a curiosity, a celebrity, but not someone they’d really listen to. Not when the excrement hits the air circulator. All of us are like that, except maybe two. Karkat and Jane. And while Jane is the single most influential person on the planet, Karkat doesn’t really do anything with the respect the troll population gives him. He’s probably too embarrassed by it, if he even knows he has it at all. I like the guy, but he’s not exactly Captain Observant. 

I narrowly sidestep several pedestrians on my way down to the metro. If Karkat isn’t ready to be a leader again yet, that’s on him. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to help. I’m looking for the Red line, but metro stations are loud and full of smells and sensations. And I’m definitely not licking the walls. I tap the shoulder of someone next to me, or at least I’m hoping it’s his shoulder. 

STRANGER: ,hey, watch it,  
TEREZI: TH4T’S NOT R34LLY SOM3TH1NG 1 C4N DO >:[  
STRANGER: ,ah jeez, sorry, lady. didya need something, or,  
TEREZI: Y3S! >:]  
TEREZI: WH1CH W4Y TO TH3 R3D L1NE FOR OUTCROP??  
STRANGER: ,about twenty feet to your right, down a set of stairs,  
TEREZI: TH4NKS K1D >8]  
STRANGER: ,kid,?

I laugh as I follow his directions and hop aboard the train. 

Outcrop is New Seattle’s biggest troll neighborhood, and if I’m going to be fighting xenophobia, it’s as good a place to set up shop as any. There are some hushed whispers around me as I remain aboard this rattling, squeaking train stop after stop, but nobody moves to stand next to me. When the announcement calls “Outcrop 10th Street, doors on the right!” I move to the right and wait for the train to stop. The doors open and I feel the wind on my face, carrying something that isn’t – but approximates – the scent of home. The building materials are softer here, more organic. Sound doesn’t quite reverberate, losing its edges instead. As I run down the stairs to street level, everything opens up to me at once. I can smell the emissions from hoverbikes and scuttlebuggies, taste the ozone of electricity in the air crackling around the metro stop, and hear the sound of people shuffling around. This seems to be a little mini-downtown, a hub of sorts. There are neon signs buzzing with Alternian and English text, advertising everything from anime to various lusus foods. Nothing here is particularly interesting to me, though. 

Off the hub there are several side streets, one of which is a building that catches my nose. The bottom floor is a disused office space, and above that is a hivestem, three or four different hives built on it. I reach for the buzzer marked “SUPER” and press it.

SUPER: what do you w∆nt!!!  
TEREZI: 4R3 YOU TH3 OWN3R OF TH1S H1V3ST3M?  
SUPER: ye∆h, wh∆t’s it to you?  
TEREZI: 1’D B3 1NT3R3ST3D 1N L34S1NG TH3 OFF1C3 ON TH3 GROUND FLOOR  
SUPER: for wh∆t?  
TEREZI: 1’M 4 L3G1SL4C3R4TOR >8]  
SUPER: kid, i don’t know wh∆t kind of shitty ∆nime you been w∆tchin&, but th∆t ∆in’t ∆ re∆l job.  
TEREZI: NOT ON TH1S PL4N3T, NO  
TEREZI: H3R3 1’M 4N 4TTORN3Y  
SUPER: ∆wri&ht, hold yer hoofbe∆sts kid. i’ll be down in ∆ minute, &et ∆ look ∆t y∆.

The intercom cuts out with a harsh, staticky noise, and after a moment I hear grumbling and creaking as the erstwhile landlord walks down the stairs. He’s tall, with horns that arc up into a graceful curve behind his head and broad shoulders. He looks me over for a moment and sighs.

SUPER: nice costume, kid. &l∆sses ∆re ∆ little off thou&h.  
TEREZI: COSTUM3?? >:/  
SUPER: ye∆h, y∆ know, dressin& up like l∆dy justice. wh∆t, ∆re y∆ pr∆nkin& me or somethin&?  
TEREZI: TH3S3 4R3 JUST MY CLOTH3S  
TEREZI: YOU R34LLY DON’T H4V3 TO C4LL M3 TH4T  
TEREZI: JUST MS. PYROP3 1S F1N3  
TEREZI: OR 1F 1 N33D 4 C3R3MON14L T1TL3, L3G1SL4C3R4TOR  
SUPER: you’re s∆yin& you’re re∆lly her?  
TEREZI: 1F BY ‘H3R’ YOU M34N SOM3 H3RO OF L3G3ND YOU’R3 GO1NG TO B3 D1S4PPO1NT3D  
TEREZI: BUT Y3S 1’M T3R3Z1 PYROP3

He sits down on the stoop, resting his forehead in his left hand.

SUPER: then where the fuck h∆ve you been?  
TEREZI: TH4T’S TH3 D1S4PPO1NTM3NT 1 M3NT1ON3D  
SUPER: ∆ll of the other cre∆tors c∆me b∆ck. not you. why now?  
TEREZI: WH4T’S YOUR N4M3? >:/  
SUPER: nouble borsky.  
TEREZI: 1’M NOT 1NF4LL1BL3 MR BORSKY  
TEREZI: 1’M NOT YOUR L4DY JUST1C3  
TEREZI: BUT 1’D L1K3 TO B3…  
TEREZI: 1 W4NT TO H3LP M4K3 TH1NGS R1GHT H3R3  
TEREZI: 1’M NOT 4 GOD, JUST 4 L4WY3R 1N N33D OF 4N OFF1C3.

He fiddles with one of his horns for a second.

NOUBLE: five hundred ∆ month, due on the first. your ener&y & w∆ter ∆re included in th∆t.

Fumbling in his pockets, he digs out a keyring and hands me a key.

NOUBLE: don't trust the m∆ilm∆n

He turns with a shrug and trudges up the stairs.

I walk into my new office, closing the door behind me. Tapping around, I can tell it’s a fairly large space, bisected with a sturdy door. A front space for public affairs and a rear space for interrogations. Everything an aspiring legislacerator needs. Yes, this will do nicely. I’d get to lurking in the dark and waiting forebodingly for a case to cross my desk immediately, were it not for the lack of a desk and the fact that I have a date scheduled tonight. Either way, this is a good start. With a flourish, I close the door behind me and head back home.

June is waiting for me when I arrive, wearing something that smells absolutely ludicrous. I step up to her and give her dress a good sniff, but the color is changing as she moves. From blue through teal right on to bright red, then back again. 

TEREZI: JUN3  
TEREZI: WH4T 1S TH4T POS1T1V3LY D3L1C1OUS DR3SS YOU’R3 W34R1NG????  
JUNE: hehe, i'm glad you like it.  
JUNE: kanaya made it for me out of molted dragon scales.

She'd chosen this? It's possibly the most beautiful thing I've never seen. With a quick lick of her face, I attempt to confirm that this is in fact the same June Egbert I’d seen this morning. She certainly tastes the same, but with fashion choices that actually make sense, I can't really be sure someone else hasn’t possessed her. 

TEREZI: WHY P1CK 4 DR4GON DR3SS? >:]  
JUNE: so you'd be okay with me doing this.

Before I can react, her arm is around me and her soft human lips are on mine, and for a good moment, all I can smell and taste is Egbert. Not that I’m complaining. The nerd tastes divine. I press my body against hers, biting her lower lip gently - I’m not interested in getting her fragrant blood everywhere right now – until we’re interrupted by the loud trill of Vriska clearing her throat.

VRISKA: Not that I didn’t loooooooove the show, 8ut we’re a8out to 8e l8 to dinner. You two coming?

June’s ever so slightly out of it, so I answer for the both of us. 

TEREZI: Y3S W3’R3 COM1NG  
TEREZI: B3S1D3S SH3’S Z4PP1NG US TH3R3  
TEREZI: W3 C4N’T 4CTU4LLY B3 L4T3

Vriska rolls her eight eyes and takes June’s hand in her own. 

VRISKA: Right. Well, I for one think we should go anyway.

And with a zap! we're gone.

The dinner is exquisite, even with my nonstandard taste buds. June and Vriska keep bickering about the relative merits of Earth C's film industry, but from the subtle inflections in their voices it's easy to tell that there's no real argument at all. They’re such dorks. After a while, having clearly exhausted their repertoire of flirty argument for the night, they turn to me. 

JUNE: so how’d it go?  
JUNE: getting your legal license?  
VRISKA: Are you an official Earth legislacer8or now????????  
TEREZI: 4PP4R3NTLY 1 W4S 4LR34DY L1C3NS3D  
TEREZI: 1’M TH3 GODD3SS OF JUST1C3 4FT3R 4LL >:/  
VRISKA: You don’t sound very enthusiastic a8out that. Who doesn’t want to 8e a god? 8888)  
VRISKA: It’s the 8ee’s knees!  
JUNE: how are you learning all these old earth phrases?  
JUNE: nobody’s said the bee’s knees in like this whole universe.  
JUNE: until you.  
VRISKA: I’ll never tell. :::;)  
TEREZI: 1 D1D F1ND 4N OFF1C3 TO R3NT! >:]  
TEREZI: 1T’S ON 12TH STR33T 1N OUTCROP  
TEREZI: ON3 OF YOU SHOULD COM3 W1TH M3 4ND H3LP D3COR4T3  
JUNE: in outcrop?  
JUNE: isn’t that a bit of a sketchy neighborhood?  
TEREZI: >:[  
TEREZI: TH1NK 4BOUT WH4T YOU JUST S41D 3GB3RT  
JUNE: what do you mean?  
TEREZI: WHY 1S 1T SK3TCHY >:/  
JUNE: well i heard there were a lot of crimes in that part of town!  
TEREZI: 4ND WHO TOLD YOU TH4T  
TEREZI: W4S 1T J4N3  
JUNE: yeah, a while ba-  
JUNE: oh. when she said sketchy, she meant there were trolls there.  
TEREZI: 4NOTH3R 1MPOSS1BL3 C4S3 SOLV3D BY S3N1OR D3T3CT1V3 3GB3RT  
JUNE: i'm sorry terezi  
TEREZI: 1T’S…  
TEREZI: 1T’S NOT OK4Y BUT 1 FORG1V3 YOU  
TEREZI: JUST TRUST M3 N3XT T1M3  
JUNE: yeah. i will.  
JUNE: *cough* uh we got you a present?  
JUNE: if you want to check it out?

Vriska laughs, pulling a box of some kind out of her sylladex and setting it in front of me.

VRISKA: Check it out, Redglare. Eg8ert and I had it made special for you.

I unwrap the box with my bare claws, feeling the heavy metal inside it. It’s a sign, written in Alternian, English, and both languages’ braille. I can smell the candy-red finish; like a solid metal raspberry. How long has it been since I used braille? Easily a heptad. Running my fingers across the text, I can feel the craftsmanship. It’s sturdy work. The sign reads, simply:

TEREZI PYROPE, ATTORNEY AT LAW

Giving it a lick just to be sure, I can taste another subtle pattern. My sign, in a professional shade of teal, down the background of the plaque. It’s possibly the best present I’ve ever received, though I’m willing to hear new evidence on the matter. A literal sign of my partners’ support. It’s going right outside my office in the morning. In the meantime, I think Egbert’s finally gotten back into my good graces. And it just wouldn’t do to waste any opportunity to catch that nerd off her guard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Varynova for being a fantastic beta-reader!
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: This chapter earns the work its Graphic Description of Violence tag. It includes the depiction of a suicide and a murder.

Like any good legislacerator, I’m up before the crowds. As they say back home, the early wingbeast gets the grub – and today I’m damn well getting the grub. The grub being justice, of course. I already know what time it is, but as a matter of procedure I hit the button on my talking clock and hear its dulcet tones inform me the time is 3:02 am. An excellent time to start my day, even if the rest of my body complains. I drag myself out of my cupe, take a quick shower to rinse off the sopor, and take a look at my closet. My sylladex, of course, goes on my wrist, my glasses on my face. My real problem is: what to wear? Alternian legislacerators dressed in functional garments, not necessarily formal. I’ve noticed that Earth lawyers tend to use formalwear, though. My closet has an alchemiter, which makes the solution rather simple. Taking my armored Redglare cosplay outfit and alchemizing it with one of June's old suits, I get a black, armored Earth-style suit with teal pinstripes and a bright red tie. My sign is embroidered on the jacket pocket, exuding pure class. Even if it makes me look slightly less lethal than I'd prefer, it certainly does smell good.

With that out of the way, I get dressed and go to fetch my assistant. June had agreed enthusiastically last night to help me set up my office, and I fully intend to hold her to it. She’s asleep, naturally. No sense of commitment, that one. I walk into her room and poke her with my cane until she bolts awake.

JUNE: terezi? what the fuck??  
TEREZI: COM3 ON 3GB3RT >:]  
TEREZI: T1M3 TO G3T TO WORK  
JUNE: what time even is it?  
TEREZI: 1 JUST TOLD YOU   
TEREZI: L1T3R4LLY 10 S3CONDS 4GO  
TEREZI: T1M3 TO G3T TO WORK >:]  
JUNE: tz it’s 3 am! why are you even awake?   
JUNE: you know trolls need sleep too, right?  
TEREZI: Y3S, 1’M 4W4R3  
TEREZI: NOW G3T UP 3GN3RD  
TEREZI: W3’R3 BURN1NG MOONL1GHT  
JUNE: no. go away. i hate you.  
TEREZI: 1 H4T3 YOU TOO B4B3 <3<   
TEREZI: BUT NOW 1SN'T TH3 T1M3 FOR SLOPPY 1NT3RSP3C13S M4K3OUTS  
TEREZI: NOW 1S TH3 T1M3 FOR JUST1C3 >:]  
JUNE: ‘mgonna kill you  
TEREZI: W3LL 1 COULD M4K3 T1M3 FOR ON3 SLOPPY 1NT3RSP3C13S M4K3OUT 1 GU3SS  
TEREZI: BUT ONLY ON3  
TEREZI: JUST1C3 W41TS FOR NO ON3  
JUNE: just go then.  
JUNE: i'll stop by later.  
JUNE: sleeping past 8 am is non negotiable.  


Fine. If the spoilsport wants it that way, I’ll oblige her. It’s not like I can’t have her zap some furniture back in time for me anyway. I leave quietly, the taps of my cane echoing in the night. 

New Seattle is different before the sun comes up. The streets are empty, lifeless. Immaculate, almost. The orange of the streetlamps scatters off the licorice of the pavement, the acidic citrus white and yellow of the road markings, the cherry and pine of the metro signs, all so sharp in the contrast of their solitude. It's a beautiful bouquet, and Egbert is missing out with that healthy sleep schedule of hers. The metro station is quiet, too; it's not just me, but the other person there is on the other platform. I can hear the rattling of an inbound train in the tunnels, the squeak as one of the wheels on the third axle back gets knocked ever so slightly askew by a scratch on the rail, then a full minute later, the chimes of the station announcement. The ride is equally sharp; the dead of night makes everything clear in ways I haven't experienced on a planet since my hive in the woods on Alternia. 

Maybe it’s better that I’m alone tonight. Nobody else could experience the world like this; they’d just slow me down. Sadly, nothing so far has lead to a case. It’s okay, though; I’ve got a few ideas for where to start. I’m walking to my office when I notice several smells far out of the normal range. Bright, intense reds and blues. And there are people here, standing around in front of the hivestem. I weave deftly through them, my trusty cane clearing a path for me, until I'm grabbed by my lapels from behind.

COP: Can't you read, lady?  
TEREZI: DO YOU 4SS4ULT 3V3RYON3 WHO W4LKS P4ST YOU?  
TEREZI: OR JUST TH3 BL1ND ON3S?  
COP: Striders on high, just my fucking luck. But tell you what, it's your lucky night too, cause I’ll just tell you what it says.  
COP: Crime scene. Scram.  
TEREZI: TH4T'S MY OFF1C3 >:[  
COP: Not tonight it's not. Maybe yesterday it was your office. Maybe tomorrow it's your office. Tonight it's my crime scene. Scram.  
TEREZI: 1’M 4 L3G1SL4C3R4TOR  
TEREZI: M4YB3 1 COULD H3LP OUT  
COP: You know, I still haven't figured out whose puppy I kicked to get assigned to Trolltown.  
COP: There ain’t no such thing, lady.  
TEREZI: 4N 4TTORN3Y TH3N >:/  
COP: Reaaally. Well, from one professional to another, if you're looking to chase the ambulance it's that way.  
COP: I don't care if you're Lady Fuckin Justice herself, you’re not getting into this crime scene.  


As he continues his frankly admirable dedication to preserving the crime scene while making the members of the community want to kill him, a second officer wanders up, tapping the first one on the shoulder.

COP 2: Sarge?  
COP 2: Sarge, you might wanna back off.  
COP: If I hear one more fucking word from you about being nice.  
COP: So help me gods, you will spend the rest of your career scrubbing toilets.  
COP 2: Uh, my opinions on niceness aside, sir, that actually is her.  
COP 2: Lady Justice.  
TEREZI: >:]  
TEREZI: H3’S R1GHT, YOU KNOW  
TEREZI: 1 4M  
TEREZI: DO 1 ST1LL H4V3 TO ST4Y OUT H3R3?  
TEREZI: OR 4R3 YOU GO1NG TO C4V3 L1K3 4 B1TCH?? [:<  
COP: La- Ma'am, please don't hang off the police barrier like that.  
COP: Seriously, Ms. Pyrope, they're not really meant to support the weight of-

The temporary barrier gives way beneath my knees, dropping me on the pavement with a thud and the clatter of wooden supports falling to the side. The police officers start laughing, and after a moment, I join them. The angry one stretches out his hand to help me up, and I make sure to reject the help. If he’s going to choose to respect me from obligation, it should be because I’m a person, not because I’m a god. I’m perfectly capable of standing the fuck up, straightening my own suit, shaking the dust out of my hair, and investigating a crime. You know, like the fully-grown troll I am. I walk past, and neither of the cops stop me. 

The crime scene isn’t on the ground floor. I walk up the stairs, the creaking of each step echoing into the near-silence as I ascend. The first floor hivesuite is empty, but the second lies open. As I enter the living block, my nostrils are overwhelmed with the scent of blood. Indigo and bright human red, mingling in a slowly-merging puddle on the floor. I breathe it in. Rotting blueberry, mixed with putrid cherry, tinged with regret. Breathe out, in, out again, and like every terrible thing in three universes and counting, it’s easy to get used to. In, out, in. The rest of the scene’s florid details start to present themselves to me. Late-night comedy blares from a blood-spattered TV; nobody’s bothered to turn it off yet. A human man lies facedown in front of the couch, one I haven’t seen before. His blood pools around him, and crimson footprints lead in reverse to the other body. I know this one, or at least I know his name. Nouble Borsky, my landlord, sits at the window holding a poorly made handgun. I lean in close and smell the bodies in more detail. The blood on the floor and wall came from three gunshot wounds. Two in the human’s torso, one in Borsky’s head. The gun itself smells like fresh explosives; easily enough powder for three shots. 

Poor Nouble is half-dressed, and the human less than half. Matesprits maybe? The pictures of the two of them hanging on the walls would indicate some kind of romantic connection at the very least. It’s a neatly arranged scene, open and shut. Borsky and the quadrantmate are sitting on the couch, watching TV, and they have an argument. Borsky loses control, kills his partner, retreats in horror to the window, and ends it all. Crime scene gets cleaned up, Sergeant McBonebulge out there gets another closed case towards his quota, everyone’s either happy or too dead to care. I can’t decide if the whole thing makes me more homesick or less. Either way, it’s very Alternian in a way that nothing else I’ve seen here on Earth C has been. Or maybe in the way everything else I’ve seen here has been. Cut and pasted from someone’s idea of what Alternia was, reduced to a one-dimensional mess of bad romance and murder. Sure, we had a lot of both going on, but it was never simple like this. Never cut and dry. I keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. The scene is far, far too perfect. This can’t be how it actually happened, can it? I lean on my cane, close my eyes, and See.

The Worldtree is impossible to truly explain to someone without the Sight, but if I were going to try, I’d start like this. The basic form of a timeline in paradox space is a loop in endless repetition. Cause, effect, cause again. Simple, right? That’s just one timeline. One worldloop. But every time someone makes a choice, decides something, it splits. Some splits are so tiny they don’t make a difference, and the two worldloops merge again. Can you remember what you ate for lunch last week? If not, that’s because the choice was so inconsequential that all possible versions of it merged into one worldloop again, and your mind can’t handle all the conflicting memories. You’re not a Seer, after all. Some choices, though, don’t merge. Some choices tear. In some worlds, the loop breaks and whips out into a straight line. Any universe where Earth C exists is one of those. This place is far, far past the safe, stable canonicity of the worldloops. And here, the relatively straight worldlines branch, then the branches branch, then the branches’ branches branch, on into infinity. If you could see the worldlines with your eyes, they’d blot everything else out with their sheer possibility. But even infinity is navigable if you have landmarks. In this case, decisions. Choices. Key words and moments.

I walk the paths starting from this moment. H3’S D34D J1M. Forward into our future, where I have a relatively simple decision. Investigate or leave it alone? I have nothing but contempt for any Terezi walking the latter path, so down Rainbow Rumpus Murder Party Road we go. Some of me get June to go back and try to undo it, and in every case something fails. In every case, the murder/suicide happens. But we witness it. We see Borsky’s partner walk into the room, and we see Borsky’s panic as he grabs the gun from the wall and shoots him. We get to see the moment where Nouble realizes what he’s done, stares at the gun for a moment further, and turns it back on himself. In every timeline it happens. It might happen today, it might happen tomorrow, but in every timeline we cannot prevent its eventual occurrence. A fixed point in causality like this is uncommon, especially outside the reign of canon. Other Terezis pursue a more conventional angle. Who knew the couple? What were they like? Did they have problems? No matter which path we all go down, the questions pile up faster than the answers remove them. At least as far as I’m willing to walk the Worldtree. It’s very easy to just lose yourself in the infinity of it all, and I’m not going to let that happen. 

Returning to the world below the Sight, I choose to investigate from the conventional angle. June shouldn’t have to see this anyway. It’d probably break her soft human bloodpusher or something. With the scene being adequately ingrained in my memory, I return to my office downstairs to drop off my business sign before going home. I still don’t have any office furniture or computing equipment, and if I’m going to investigate this odd moment of canonicity, I’m going to need a lot of coffee and a small pile of Scalemates from which to conduct my research.

The apartment is silent at this hour, with June and Vriska asleep. I don't bother waking them up; they'll get to it when they get to it. It's not like I particularly need their help anyway. Instead, I head straight for the nutrition block, starting a pot of coffee brewing. I get the grinds from my own stash - judicial-grade, with not a hint of freshness to be found in them at all. I grab my husktop from my sylladex and get cracking on every bit of information I can find. Nouble and his matesprit Tyler lived alone in the building; the other apartments hadn't been rented for at least an Earth sweep. They weren’t popular, nor were they unpopular. I've seen the realities in which I talk to their friends, and nobody can quite explain why Borsky snapped the way he did. He had no record of mental illness, no indications of violent tendencies; according to everyone I interrogated, Borsky didn't even like the gun. He only kept it around because Tyler had insisted they have at least one strife specibus handy. 

Every single piece of information I can find leads to a single conclusion: There was no reason for this murder-suicide. It was simply a crime of passion, a moment of weakness. There's nothing to be gained from investigating motive, means, or opportunity, seeing as the perpetrator is already dead. I should shut down my computer, turn off the percolator, and hop back in my sleeping slime. Just put it all behind me. Honestly, sometimes these things just happen. And yet… I can't. I don't know why my mind is acting this way. There was no reason for this murder-suicide, and that by itself is intensely suspicious. Something seemingly without reason, repeated in every possible worldline without fail? It shouldn't have happened once, let alone across the entire spectrum of possible worlds. We shouldn't even have the possiblity of fixed points like that. Not here, where we've left canonicity and the very idea of fixed points behind. 

There's a sound behind me, as Vriska walks in and pours herself a mug of coffee. She sips it quietly before spitting it out with a “8luh!” noise.

VRISKA: Are you trying to kill me, Redglare?  
VRISKA: 8ecause that’s how you kill me.  
VRISKA: Is this even coffee? Don't tell me you've 8een experimenting.  
TEREZI: Y3S 1T’S COFF33  
TEREZI: 1T’S TH3 B3ST K1ND OF COFF33 >:]   
TEREZI: COFF33 1SN’T SUPPOS3D TO T4ST3 D3L1C1OUS, VR1SK4  
TEREZI: 1T’S SUPPOS3D TO BURN YOUR TONGU3 4ND UNS3TTL3 YOU  
TEREZI: TO K33P YOU ON YOUR LOCOMOT1ON BUDS  
TEREZI: SH4RP3N YOUR TH1RST FOR JUST1C3 >:]  
VRISKA: Oooooooor, it's just coffee. You know not everything has to be a8out justice, right?  
VRISKA: May8e you have hivem8s that can't sleep right on this stupid planet and need caffeine. For instance.  
TEREZI: 4R3 YOU H4V1NG TROUBL3 SL33P1NG?  


Vriska doesn't answer. Instead, she picks up the pot of coffee gingerly, as if she’s handling a plague sample. She hovers it over the sink for a moment, deciding whether or not to pour it out, before setting it back down on the counter. A small sigh escapes her lips as she shakes her head. Reaching back into the cabinet where her mugs are, she retrieves a thermos with Egbert’s sign on it and pours my coffee into it before starting a new batch for herself. Serket seals the thermos and hands it to me as she sits down next to me.

VRISKA: So terri8le coffee means you have a case, then. Is it an easy case, or should I 8e looking for a second percol8or?  
TEREZI: 1T’S COMPL1C4T3D  
VRISKA: Come on, Redglare, you’re 8etter than that. You're Terezi Pyrope. Nothing can 8e that complic8ed.  
TEREZI: SO MY L4NDLORD K1LL3D H1MS3LF L4ST N1GHT  
TEREZI: 4FT3R K1LL1NG H1S M4T3SPR1T  
TEREZI: BUT TH4T’S TH3 S1MPL3 P4RT.  
TEREZI: TH4T S3NS3L3SS D34TH 1S 4 F1X3D PO1NT. 1MMUT4BL3, UNCH4NG1NG. C4NON.  
VRISKA: Canon? Does that even matter anymore? We finished. We 8eat the game twice.  
TEREZI: TH4T'S WH4T WORR13S M3 >:/  
TEREZI: 1T SHOULDN’T M4TT3R, BUT 1T DO3S.   
TEREZI: SOM3TH1NG 1SN’T R1GHT H3R3 4ND 1 H4V3 TO F1ND OUT WH4T  
VRISKA: Sweet! I'm in!!!!!!!!   
TEREZI: D1D 1 S4Y 1 N33D3D H3LP?  
VRISKA: That's cute, Pyrope. 8ut we 8oth know I wasn’t asking. You can never have too much 8ackup!  


She has at least a little bit of a point. It would be nice to have backup. I get the feeling this is going to be a long case.


End file.
